The Frayed Ends
by SugarBubbleGum
Summary: Gone. Sam is missing. Kidnapped. Dean is worried sick, and with John out on a hunt, he's left to find Sam on his own. The last thing Dean needs is CPS trying to take Sam away. Dean only has a week to find Sam before his captor's kill him. And the clock starts now. Protective!Dean Hurt!Limp!Sam Teenchesters.


**Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue**

**Yeah, it's a new supernatural story :D Kinda rusty with this, so we'll see how this goes. This first chapter feels kinda short, but hang in there with me. **

**Sorry if it sucks, but pretty please review ;)**

**Dean is 17, Sam is 14**

**So, yeah. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 1: Gone

- - Fall 1996 - -

John Winchester handed the diner waitress the menu's after him and his sons had ordered their lunch's. It was Dean's favorite diner in all of Seattle - the place they were staying until John got another call for a hunt. Dean had gotten to pick which diner they went to this time, since Sam got to pick last week. Sam mindlessly solved his way through the kid's menu maze with a broken green crayon, bored out of his mind while his dad and older brother talked about hunting vampires - the latest monster they killed.

When their food finally arrived, Dean made sure to toss the sweet-eyed red haired waitress a winning smile. She blushed and hurried back to the kitchen. It was quiet as the three began to plow into their food.

"So, uh, Dad?" Sam piped up, forking his macaroni and cheese.

John took a bite of his cheesesteak sandwich and wiped his mouth with a napkin, looking up at his youngest. "Mm?"

Sam cleared his throat. "So we have this science fair project thing up at school tomorrow...and-"

"Sam, you have got to try these fries. They're amazing!" John interrupted, pushing some crispy fries onto Sam's plate. Sam frowned and looked at the fries uncaringly.

"Yeah, they look great. Anyway, I was wondering if you could-"

"Hey, Dad! Listen to the song that's playing," Dean said excitedly. John paused and then grinned as he heard the familiar ACDC drum through the diner.

John then got into a conversation with Dean about some stupid rock metal bands that Sam didn't have the patience to listen to.

Sam grew frustrated, and stabbed a macaroni with his fork, scraping the plate. "Dad! Listen to me!" He said in a loud yet uncertain tone.

His father and Dean exchanged a look. John turned to his youngest and nodded. "What, Sam?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you could go to my science fair. I entered a project...and I really hope you can be there..." He stopped talking when he saw his father's blank look. Sam felt stupid. Of course his father wouldn't care about something like that. "Nevermind. It's kinda lame anyway..."

John shook his head. "No, no, Sam of course not. You know what? I'll be there. What time is it at?"

Sam beamed. "What, really? I-I mean, it's at three o'clock!" Was this really happening? His dad was going to go to something that was for once about him?

Even Dean looked a little interested. He ruffled Sam's hair. "You're such a nerd," he teased as Sam playfully shoved him away.

"And Dad guess what? My project is-" But Sam was interrupted again.

Suddenly, John's 90s Nokia cell phone rang. John answered it and held his index finger up in front of Sam to shush him. Sam stopped talking and frowned. "Hey Bobby, what's happening?" John said into the phone. He paused for a minute as Bobby spoke. "No, nothing really right now. Why?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a knowing look. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean offered him a grin. "Look's like Dad's got better things to do," Dean said.

"Shut up!" Sam said, pouting.

John glared at them to be quiet before putting the phone back up to his ear. "No, yeah, yeah, I can hear you," John was saying into the phone as he walked to the back of the diner to talk in private.

Sam slammed his fork down on the plate and slumped into the booth. "I knew Dad was gonna ditch us,"

"Dad's not gonna ditch us," Dean said, finishing his hamburger. "Stop whining."

"He is too," Sam insisted. "Just watch. I'll bet you two dollars."

John returned back to the table with the cell phone in his pocket. "Hey, Sammy. Looks like I can't make it to your science thing after all. I gotta go on a hunt tomorrow morning, and I gotta meet Bobby tonight. Don't know when I'll be back."

Sam didn't say anything.

John put some money on the table. "Let's get going. I gotta go pack," he said, heading toward the door.

Dean looked regretfully down at his brother. He ruffled his hair lovingly. "Hey I owe you two bucks," he said, trying to brighten the mood. Sam shrugged him off.

Dean sighed and pulled his brother closer. "Hey I'm still going. Doesn't that count for something?"

The younger Winchester huffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you'd wanna go to some lame eighth grade science fair,"

"I never said it was lame," Dean answered, getting into the Impala's passenger seat. Dean never had to call shot-gun because he always got to sit in front. Dad had said the Impala would go to him someday. Sam didn't really care, so long as he got to drive it when he got his permit.

Sam didn't say anything more as he slumped into the back seat. John started the engine and the ca roared to life. He began backing out of the almost empty lot, grabbing the head rest of Dean's seat as he turned and strained to see out the back windshield so he wouldn't hit anything. Dean switched on the radio, choosing an oldies station.

He began to drum along to to the rhythm on the car dashboard. Sam just glared out the car window, watching a rush of different colored cars whiz by. John drove quickly to the motel they were staying at.

He parked the car in the parking lot near the side of the building. He took a pair of keys the front desk had given him and unlocked the door on the side of the motel. Sam trudged behind Dean into the yellow wallpapered hallway of the first floor and into an elevator. His brother and father were talking about the hunt their father was going on but sam was barely listening.

As they stepped onto the second floor, Sam made a show of dragging his feet against the hall carpet all the way to their room. After John unlocked it, Sam hurried in and flopped face first onto the bed he and Dean shared.

Dean promptly sat on top of his lifeless body. Sam groaned. "Dean I'm not five anymore. This isn't fun for me," he yelled, his voice muffled into the bed. Dean rolled over and Sam got up, rolling his eyes. He felt fed up with everyone.

John got down his large brown suitcase from the sliding mirrored closet near the door. He was feeling a little anxious about leaving Dean and Sam alone. Sure he had gone on hunts without them before, but he usually knew when he'd be back. This time he didn't.

He knew Dean could fight off anyone who might try to harm them and Sam was responsible enough to keep them both out of trouble.

Dean had only taken one American Red Cross course in his career and that was at school for one day. He had learned first aid and CPR and other basic medical emergency fixes during then, so John felt comfortable leaving him in charge.

John began throwing clothes and weapons and their necessities into his suitcase as he quizzed his boys on the rules for when he left. "Sam, you know how and when to call 911?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm not six," Sam said bitterly.

John raised his eyebrows. "And what's the address of this motel so you can tell the police where to come?"

Sam thought for a minute. "Blue Bungalow Motel at 1632 Deer Canyon Ave."

"1630," John corrected. "And where do I always put the extra room key?"

"In the plant pot by the door," Sam grumbled. "And I'll remember to put it back and lock the door when Dean's gone," Out of nowhere, Sam began to cough. It sounded dry and painful. Cringing, Sam grasped his throat.

His father looked over at him. "Sam, you ok?" he asked. "You got a fever?"

"No," Sam answered, staring blankly at the carpet.

"Well, I hope it doesn't turn into something worse,"

"Dad, I'm fine," Sam said, before breaking into another fit of coughing. "It's probably just a sore throat."

John paused and set down his suitcase. "Well, I don't know if I should go with you sick and all,"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dad, I'm not sick. I just have a sore throat."

John nodded again and then wrote something down on a post-it note. "This is the number of this motel and the one I'll be staying at with Bobby in Nevada. You have my number, Pastor Jim's, and Bobby's if you need anything."

"Uh-huh," Sam grumbled, having heard this all before.

His father zipped up his suitcase and pulled up the plastic handle to wheel it around. He checked his watch, 7:00pm.

Dean was quick to let his father leave, having been through this a million times. He flopped on the couch, kicking his feet up on the cushions and switched on the TV. "Later," he said, eyes glued to the screen.

John seemed a little more hesitant. "Yeah, later,"

"Something wrong?" His son asked, not looking away from the TV.

"Sam's cough could lead to something worse-"

"Dad, Sam's coughed before and Sam will cough again," Dean replied in a bored tone. "I look in on him every five minutes if you like. Just go,"

John nodded reluctantly and rolled his suitcase toward the door. "Ok," he said. Just then a thought hit him, and he turned around to look at Dean. "The pepper. Did we run out of pepper?"

Dean gave him a funny look. "Dad, do you mean salt?"

John ran a hand over his forehead in exhaustion. He was really anxious about this. "I was just testing," He was about to open the door again when he thought of something else. "Oh, and listen Dean-"

"We know where all the phone numbers are and I'll lock and salt the door right behind you," Dean said almost robotically. "Goodnight,"

Their father nodded and walked out the door. Dean got up from the couch and went over to the door to lock the top lock, but before he could, a knock came from behind it. Dean rolled his eyes and opened it. John raised his eyebrows at his son in disappointment. "You didn't say 'who is it?'"

"Only because I knew who it was," Dean said.

John paused and then nodded. "Good boy," he said, and then Dean closed the door behind him. Dean grabbed the lock above the door just as he heard his father yell from the hallway, "You didn't lock the door!"

Dean shook his head as he slid the lock in place. "So Sammy looks like it's just you and me tonight,"

Sam looked pathetically over at him. He lazily slumped up from his bed and slouched on the couch next to Dean. "Dad hates me,"

"What?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. "No. Are you kidding me? He almost threw a hunt just so he could stay home cause you've got a sore throat. He'd never do that with me."

His little brother didn't seem convinced. Instead, Sam gave a raspy cough. He cringed in pain and rubbed his throat. "You got any pills for this?" He asked Dean.

Dean thought for a second. "Yeah, I think Dad's got some up in a cabinet somewhere," he said, walking into the bathroom. "Found some!" He called from the bathroom. He came back out holding a white pill and a cup of water. Sam took it and grimaced.

"My throat feels scratchy," he muttered. He took his sneakers off and snuggled onto the couch, curling his legs underneath him. Dean shrugged. "I bet you'll feel better tomorrow Sammy," he paused for a second and then grinned. "Wanna go out for ice cream? It'll make you feel better?"

Sam gave barely a shrug. "I don't know. Maybe," he muttered.

Dean knew he was pissed that Dad for missing his science fair, and on top of that the kid wasn't feeling well. Dean patted Sam on the arm. "I'll go get some cash and we can go," he said. He walked over to the nightstand where Dad kept some money and took about fifteen dollars. He met Sam by the door who still looked glum. Bobby had picked John up so the Impala was theirs. Dean got in and for once Sam got to sit in the front. He drove to the small ice cream parlor called Bradley's, and he and Sam walked in. It was chilly inside, and Sam felt his own warm forehead. Dean ordered them two vanilla concretes and the brothers went and sat in the corner booth, eating their ice cream.

Dean poked Sam with one end of his blue plastic spoon. "She's got some legs, doesn't she?"

Sam looked over at the waitress Dean was pointing at. "I guess," Sam showed mock-interest.

"Her eyes are hot, man," Dean cawed.

Sam snickered a little, watching as the waitress, who was on the other side of the parlor, take orders from another table. Her eyes _were_ pretty. He and Dean would do this all the time they went out to eat. Dean would go on about how hot some waitress was and Sam would just roll his eyes. All the girls always went for his older brother, never him.

Dean took a big bite from his ice cream and pulled out his wallet. Sam looked at the beaten up brown leather pocketbook with interest.

"First things first." Dean opened the wallet. "Dad's usually gone for a week. What should we do this hole week? I mean, summer break starts Tuesday, which is the day after your science fair night. What do you wanna do this week? Basketball? Movies? Arcade?"

"All of that," Sam answered. "And we definitely have to hit the pool." There was only something Sam loved more than school, and that was swimming.

"I'm _loving _the pool," Dean agreed.

"Where should we go have dinner tomorrow night?" Sam asked.

"Tracy's Diner, of course," Dean said loudly, talking over the loud noise the freezer in the back of the ice cream parlor made every now and then.

"You're right. They've got the best burgers."

"Should we invite girls?" Dean's eyes gleamed. "That girl Mandy Valado from my health class keeps calling me. Her sister, Heather, is in your grade right? Maybe she can come for you?"

Sam frowned. Despite being cute, incredibly rich and part of the super-sexy clan of Valado sisters, Heather wasn't really his type. "No girls," he decided. "Although that's very cool about Mandy."

"This is going to be an awesome week." Dean grinned so broadly that the faintest of dimples showed. "Can you believe summer break is in _one day_?"

Sam smiled.

"Now for the big plans," Dean said, finishing his ice cream. "Someone's turning fifteen next week,"

"Yeah, it's gonna rock," Sam gushed sarcastically. Sam's birthday was next Monday, and Dean hadn't forgotten. Sam never really wanted to have a party. If anything he would rather just hang out in an arcade with his brother and then go bowling and eat pizza or see a movie.

A group of kids from the school the brothers were currently enrolled at began filtering out of the ice cream parlor, which meant that it was almost closing time. As Sam and Dean swaggered through the exit, Sam realized they were approaching Nolan and Ricky, two popular kids from Sam's class. They had been standing next to a few benches outside the ice cream parlor. Sam set his jaw and tried not to be noticed.

"_Loner,_" Nolan hissed into Sam's ear as he passed.

"_Freak_," Ricky taunted right behind him.

"Don't listen to them, Sam," Dean said loudly. "They're just pissed because their birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory."

"It's cool," Sam said breezily, lowering his gaze to the blacktop.

"No it's not," Dean replied. Then he stopped dead in the middle of the street. "Holy shit," he muttered. "It's Liz Wade," he said, looking at a blonde haired girl across the street. She was with a group of her friends. "She's in my pre-calc,"

"You take pre-calc?" Sam asked in shock-amusement.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, little bro," he said teasingly. "Wait here," he said, sauntering across the street to talk to her.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. It had grown late into the evening. The group of kids from his school were long gone, and the sign in the ice cream parlor window read closed.

_Come on, Dean, _Sam thought to himself as he watched his brother flirt with her.

Sam noticed a white car out of the corner of his eye speed down into a lane. Then it drove by him. Sam thought nothing of it and impatiently waited for his brother. Dean walked inside a small store with the girl and her friends. Sam shot him an annoyed look from across the street and Dean just held up his pointer finger to indicate one minute before walking into the store.

Sam sighed and leaned against the wall behind him. This sucked. It was getting darker, and suddenly Sam wished Dean hadn't gone into that store and left him by himself. He waited for what seemed like a full minute and then decided to cross the street and walk into the store.

Before he could step off the curb, the white car appeared out of nowhere and pulled to a stop, much to Sam's dismay, in front of the curb he was standing on. The window rolled down and a woman with red hair and in her thirties looked out at him, flashing a smile. "Need a ride, honey?" She asked in a honey-coated voice.

Sam looked around and realized he was the only one standing there. "Me? Uh, no, thanks," he said quickly. "I gotta go," he said, starting to walk away.

Before he could move down the street, the back car door flung open and a man jumped out and grabbed a hand tightly around Sam's mouth before he could scream and opened the trunk, throwing him in and slamming the door. He jumped back in the car and the woman drove off.

Meanwhile, Dean was congratulating himself for getting Liz's phone number. He stepped out of the store and expected to find Sam waiting for him across the street. When Sam wasn't where he'd left him, panic set in. Dean hurried over to where Sam once stood and searched the street. "Sam?" He called, his heart racing. "Sammy?" He called again, the alarm reaching his voice. "Sammy?!"

Dean ran a hand over his face. "No, no, no, this is not happening," he said to himself. "This is bad, this is so bad."


End file.
